


Pavlov Would Be So Proud

by USSFriendship



Series: Clint Barton Bingo 2019 [4]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Swearing, This is ridiculous, remember to keep hydrated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 00:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/USSFriendship/pseuds/USSFriendship
Summary: Clint figures out he has a brand new conditioned response at an inopportune time. Because of course it does.





	Pavlov Would Be So Proud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notverygoodatflyingaeroplanes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notverygoodatflyingaeroplanes/gifts).

> Making a new friend and a silly tumblr chat turned into this... whatever it is, so it's all [notverygoodatflyingaeroplanes's](https://notverygoodatflyingaeroplanes.tumblr.com/) fault.
> 
> Thank you so much to [Flowerparrish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish) and [BloodMooninSpace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMooninSpace/works) for beta'ing on the fly.
> 
> Clint Barton Bing: I3 - Free  
Bucky Barnes Bingo: C3 - Free  
Winterhawk Bingo: N3 - Free

As far as Clint can tell, the biggest problem with fighting Doombots is that it’s boring. The damn things are so crappy that they fall apart if you look at them too hard, and the only thing that makes them a threat is that there are so flippin’ many of them. All they are good for is target practice, and even then, their movements are predictable, so they don’t even make particularly good targets. What a world; Clint gets bored fighting evil robots. He watches Tony blast what looks to be the last of the bots and as he waits for the all clear. Since the fight is over and he is stuck on the rooftop until Tony shows up to give him a ride back to the ground, he allows his mind wander off, wondering what his six-year-old self would think about the fact that he battled ‘bots so regularly that it was as exciting as doing chores. Before he can chase that thought too much, Tony clomps down next to him. 

“Alrighty, Legolas, hop on.”

Clint has no idea how many times he’s done this, and it is still fucking weird. For short trips like this, he just stands on Iron Man’s feet and wraps his arms around him, like a little girl dancing with her dad or something equally schmaltzy. Whatever, it was efficient, and the sooner he got on the ground, the sooner all of this would be over and he’d be home and showered and eating pizza in his comfy pants while watching Dog Cops.

It takes a handful of seconds for Tony to get him to where the rest of the team is standing around waiting for the van that will take them back to the compound. He quickly scans the area around him, taking in the carnage, when his eyes stop on Bucky.

“Fucking shitty robots,” Bucky mutters to himself as he tries to comb his fingers through his hair, which looks more like a bird’s nest than the long, silky locks he usually rocks. “The fuck did that thing do, drop a running egg beater in my hair,” he rambles to himself, shoving his flesh hand into his pocket only to yank it out again several seconds later with an elastic hair tie pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. The litany of curses at Doom and his shitty robots continues as he angrily scrubs his hand over his head, gathering his hair and pulling it back and wrapping the tie around the knotted mess. 

“Whoa, there, Merida,” Tony says, putting a hand on his shoulder, “you look really pale all of a sudden, everything ok?”

Somehow, he managed to miss Tony walking up to him, missed everything else that was going on, actually, including remembering to breathe, but the hand on his shoulder shocks him back to reality. 

And then Clint passes out.

* * *

When he comes to, Tony’s still in the process of laying him down on the pavement. Fuck, this is embarassing, but at least he wasn’t out for long. 

“M’fine, Tn’y,” he says, mouth so dry it is hard to form words.

Tony guides him so he’s sitting on the ground, keeping his gauntlet-clad hand between Clint’s shoulder blades, like he isn’t sure the archer can actually support himself, then snorts at laugh at Clint’s words. “Sure, sure, Legolas. Passing out is a totally normal thing healthy people do.”

“Mrawmmf.” Clint croaks. With a grimace, he swallows and tries again, “‘m tired and a little dehydrated and I’ve spent the last three hours slow-roasting in the sun up on that rooftop. J’st need water ‘n’ I’ll be fine.”

It looks like Tony is going to argue with him, but before he has a chance to say anything Bucky is there, dropping onto his knees and looking harried. He starts to reach out to Clint but stopping just shy of actually touching him. “Dumbass bird. What happened?!”

Clint… well, Clint very much wants to tell Bucky what happened, and he definitely will, but that will come later. When the entire team, a bunch of cops, and a handful of reporters aren’t around. 

“Need some water, and to take off this sweat-soaked leather suit.” He looks up at Bucky and sees that Bucky doesn’t quite believe him, so he gives the fearsome Winter Solder a small, sheepish smile. “I’m fine, Buck. Need water and to cool off. Planned poorly for an October heatwave is all.”  


Bucky eyes him skeptically, while Tony looks between the two of them.

“You two are terrible at this. Absolutely no one is fooled,” Tony says bluntly, but when Clint looks up at him, he’s grinning. 

Just then, Steve walks up, holding two bottles of water and with a medic in tow. “Who’s bad at what now? Who’s not fooled about what?”  


Clint makes grabby hands for the water while Bucky fixes Tony with his best Murder Glare. Tony just laughs and says, “Nobody is fooled by anything, Cap. Ever, apparently. We’re all just too clever for that.” 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head a little, “Great, I am missing something so obvious even Tony knows. Anyway, Clint, you’re going to let Brian here look you over now, and then you are going to medical when we get back to the compound. You are not going to argue, or I am going to make Bucky sit on you until you get the all clear.”

Clint groans, Bucky smirks, and Tony outright laughs at that. 

“Yes, Captain. Whatever you say, Captain. I am sorry I will have to miss clean-up, Captain.”

* * *

Several hours later and Clint, with a clean bill of health and instructions to drink lots of water and take it easy for the next couple of days, is headed back to his quarters. Bucky strides along next to him, not touching but a little closer than just two people walking. 

“So, what the fuck was that back there, Barton?”

Clint just gives a small shake of his head and keeps walking, knowing he is driving Bucky bonkers, but not risking the chance that someone would overhear. He’s pretty sure that when Bucky hears the answer, he’ll be OK with this decision. 

Luckily, they don’t have to wait long. In just another minute they find themselves in the privacy of Clint’s living room. 

“So,” Clint squares on him as soon as the door closes behind them, “you are going to think this is the funniest fucking thing.”

“Yeah, Barton, you passed out. Haha. Fucking hilarious.”

“Uh huh, just -” Clint takes a deep breath to steady himself, “I saw you pulling your hair back.”

Bucky looks at him, waiting for him to continue. Several seconds passed in silence before he can’t take it anymore. “Yeah, I tend to do that, especially when it’s all matted and in the way.”

“Yeah, sure,” Clint agrees. “You also do it before you give head.”

“Well, yeah,” Bucky knows this, but he isn’t sure what that has to do with anything. “It gets in the way, and wet hair in your mouth is both distracting and gross, and neither of those things make for a good blowjob.”

“Oh, I wholeheartedly agree,” he nods vigorously, “and I am a fan. Uh…yeah. Big fan. Watching you pull your hair back, all disheveled and sweaty and victorious made me realize that…” he trails off, suddenly more embarrassed than he can ever remember being. Maybe Bucky will put it together himself and he can go dig a hole and hide in it for a few years. A quick glance at Bucky lets him know that the super soldier had no idea where he was going with any of this. Great.

“Ugh, fuck it. Whatever,” Clints scrubs his hands over his face. “You always put your hair up before you blow me. So now…” he sighed, “so now, apparently, I get hard any time I see you pull your hair back. So… fuck. I guess that means that when I am exhausted and overheated and dehydrated and I see you do that all the blood in my body rushes to my dick so fast that I pass the fuck out and embarass the hell out of myself.”

Bucky stands there staring at him. His mouth opens and closes several times before he bursts out laughing. The laugh is a giant braying sort of thing that grows until he is laughing so hard he isn’t making any noise, just standing there sort of hunched over and shaking with mirth. It is a treat to see Bucky so unguarded and happy, but it would have been so much better if it hadn’t been at his expense. Probably. 

Eventually Bucky manages to pull himself together. He straightens up and before Clint knows it, Bucky is right in front of him, nose to nose, with Bucky’s hands on either side of his face. 

“Barton,” Bucky says softly, eyes still shiny with laughter-induced tears, “You’re a fuckin’ mess and, god help me, I love you more than I thought possible,” and with that he closes the distance and lays a kiss on Clint that nearly makes him pass out again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you're having a great day. 
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ussfriendship).


End file.
